In any legal system, the courtroom is meant to be the place where facts are tested, witness statements are challenged, and truth is allowed to emerge from evidence. But when a case attracts intense public interest, the contest often spills beyond the court’s walls, and the battle for public opinion can become just as consequential as the battle inside the courtroom. That appears to be happening in the trial of Kwabena Adu-Boahene, the former Director-General of the National Signals Bureau, and his wife, Angela Adjei Boateng. Lawyer Kwesi Botchway Jnr has publicly accused Deputy Attorney-General and Minister of Justice Dr. Justice Srem-Sai of engaging in a misinformation and disinformation campaign against the two accused persons. Botchway’s complaint focuses on comments Srem-Sai made during an appearance on PM Express, a television programme. In a statement issued via Facebook, Botchway acknowledged that the Deputy Attorney-General has every right to talk about cases being prosecuted by his office. But he argued that some of the assertions Srem-Sai made were inaccurate and did not match the evidence already placed before the court. For a lawyer watching the proceedings, that is a serious charge. It suggests that a senior government official is using public platforms not simply to inform citizens but to shape opinion in ways that may not survive contact with the facts. In a case that already involves sensitive national security issues and large sums of money, such public narratives can be dangerous.
What made Botchway’s criticism especially sharp was the apparent double standard. He said that Srem-Sai has consistently admonished lawyers against discussing the merits of cases they are handling. That is a well-known professional caution, and it exists for good reason. Trials should be decided in court, not on television or radio. When lawyers argue their cases in the media, they risk prejudicing juries, intimidating witnesses, and undermining public confidence in the judiciary. Yet in the very interview that triggered this dispute, Botchway says Srem-Sai did much more than offer a general comment on the case. The Deputy Attorney-General went into the merits, the weaknesses, and even the possible defences the accused persons might raise. For Botchway, that is deeply troubling. It is one thing for a prosecutor to reassure the public that a case is solid. It is quite another to dissect the evidence—or what Srem-Sai claims the evidence is—while the trial is still underway. By doing so, Srem-Sai appeared to be applying one standard to defence lawyers and another to himself. The contradiction is not merely a matter of professional etiquette. It raises questions about fairness and about the message being sent to ordinary lawyers: that the rules appear to apply to everyone except those in power. For anyone following the case, the natural reaction is to wonder what kind of justice system allows one side to speak freely while the other is expected to remain silent.
The substance of the dispute concerns a specific bank account at Universal Merchant Bank (UMB) linked to BNC Operations, popularly described in the case as the “Private BNC” account. According to Botchway, Srem-Sai suggested in the interview that, sometime in 2020, the bank noticed suspicious transactions on that account, filed a Suspicious Transaction Report (STR), and eventually closed the account because of those concerns. That narrative may sound clean and reassuring to a public that wants to believe the authorities are watching. But Botchway says it is not what the prosecution’s own witness told the court under oath. He reminded everyone that during cross-examination, EOCO investigator Frank Marshal Cromwell, the prosecution’s fourth witness, gave a very different account. Cromwell testified that the alleged STR was filed in 2020 and concerned a single transaction involving GH¢7.2 million. That money, according to the investigator, moved through Kwabena Adu-Boahene’s account before being transferred to the National Security Coordinator’s account at Fidelity Bank. From there, it was later sent to ISC Holdings of Israel for the purchase of a cyber-defence system. So far, that might seem consistent with the Deputy Attorney-General’s story. But the witness went on to say things that complicate it considerably, and those details matter when the entire case depends on public trust in the evidence.
Under cross-examination, Cromwell reportedly admitted that UMB did not consider the opening of the account suspicious. The bank also did not identify the three cheques paid into the account as suspicious, nor did it identify any other transaction on the account as suspicious. In other words, the only suspicious activity the bank supposedly detected was that one 2020 transaction, and even that suspicion was not independently confirmed. More importantly, the investigator conceded that he never contacted the Financial Intelligence Centre (FIC) to verify whether the alleged STR had actually been filed and received. He could not produce any acknowledgement or official document from the FIC showing receipt of the report. His belief that the STR existed rested mainly on a screenshot rather than on confirmation from the institution legally responsible for receiving and investigating such reports. That detail is crucial. An STR is a formal mechanism designed to alert authorities to possible money laundering or other financial crimes. If the existence of the report cannot be independently verified, then the foundation of that part of the prosecution’s case becomes shaky. Botchway also drew attention to the timeline. UMB closed the account on 2 March 2023, almost three years after the alleged STR was filed in 2020. If the report had caused the account to be closed, one would expect at least some evidence of that direct connection. Instead, the account remained operational for roughly three more years. That long gap raises obvious questions about cause and effect. If the bank was truly alarmed in 2020, why did it take until 2023 to act? If the STR was so significant, why was there no trace of the FIC acting on it? These are exactly the kinds of questions that cross-examination is meant to expose, and they leave a significant evidential gap in the prosecution’s narrative.
Given all of that, Botchway found it surprising that the Deputy Attorney-General would present the matter to the public in a way that seemed inconsistent with the sworn testimony of the prosecution’s own witness. He was careful not to tell Srem-Sai to stay silent altogether. Public officials have a right—and sometimes a duty—to explain their work to citizens. But, Botchway argued, public commentary on an ongoing prosecution should not become a vehicle for creating facts that the evidence does not support. There is a difference between telling the public what the prosecution believes and telling them what the witness actually said. When a senior law officer misstates or overstates the evidence, it does more than just confuse the public. It can damage the credibility of the entire justice system. It can also place unfair pressure on the court, which is supposed to decide the case solely on the evidence presented before it. Botchway stressed that the public deserves accurate information and that the record of proceedings must be allowed to speak for itself. That is not a radical demand. It is basic fairness. In any democratic society, citizens are entitled to know how their government is behaving, but they are also entitled to know the truth. And truth in a criminal trial is established in court, not on television. When a prosecutor becomes a storyteller and the evidence does not support the story, the public is being misled, no matter how convincing the telling might be.
This dispute is important not only for the accused persons but for the broader principle of fair trial and public trust. The case already involves serious allegations about the use of state power, national security spending, and financial transactions that crossed borders. It is precisely the kind of story that invites speculation, rumour, and political interpretation. That is why it is so important for officials to speak carefully. When a Deputy Attorney-General chooses to discuss an ongoing case on a public programme, he should know that every statement will be measured against the transcript of the trial. If his account does not match the evidence, critics will notice. More importantly, judges and the public may begin to question whether the prosecution is relying on evidence or on media narratives. Botchway’s statement is a reminder that legal proceedings must not be conducted in the shadows, but they must also not be conducted in the echo chamber of public relations. The courtroom remains the only proper forum for deciding what happened and who should be held accountable. As the trial continues, the best thing all sides can do is let the evidence lead the way. In the end, the true story of the account, the transactions, and the decisions that followed must be found in the record of proceedings, not in the soundbites of a television interview. The public deserves no less.